One More Night
by AlaskaMarina
Summary: Kurt Hummel is invisible. And crushing hard on Blaine Anderson; the popular, straight jock currently dating one Miss Rachel Berry. Kurt thinks his dream might come true when the two boys discover Blaine may not be as straight as they thought. But can their relationship survive the secrets, betrayal, and rampant homophobia that threaten to derail them at every turn? Klaine AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay. So this is based of this amazing fan-made trailer on YouTube by Alison447 ( /watch?v=J-xlhlOJuro&feature=player_embedded) and you should definitely check it out because it is amazing. So amazing I just had to write a fic about it. And so did many other people, as it turns out.**

**I, myself, know of at least 5 other fics with this title based off of that trailer. What can I say? It's a great premise and I take no credit for the basic idea of this story. I also recommend you go and check out those other fics if you like the video, especially the one by "beautifulwhatsyourhurry" on Scarves&Coffee.**

**Anyway, this is my take on it. I am NOT competing with these other stories and I planned out most of my version before I read any of the others, so any similarities (that aren't in the video, obviously) are purely coincidental and/or subconscious. ****I just really love this idea and was really excited to write about it so I did. **

**Anywho, some notes about the story. Everything's pretty cannon except Blaine is straight and has been at McKinley since freshman year and he and Rachel have been dating almost as long. I don't have a specific time in my head but this is probably sometime around season 2. **

**Some warnings for language, and hopefully smut later on if everything works out. I don't know yet if there will be violence. As of now I'm not planning any but you never know. **

**Sorry for the long note (the others won't be this long) and please enjoy my interpretation of "One More Night." :)**

* * *

_Rachel Berry_. Berry was right. She was the sweetest thing anyone had ever seen. She was so tiny and adorable and beautiful. She had the cutest laugh and her nose would scrunch up when she used it. Her hair was so dark and shiny and perfect and she always dressed like she had a team of designers and make-up artists working on her around the clock. And, in addition to all that aesthetic appeal, she was full of confidence, and determination, and, well, _volume_. And, dear god, she could sing. To hear her perform a ballad or lead a group number was to be reborn into the world of music. Your ears and soul would never be the same again.

That was the general consensus around the school anyway. She was _the _hottest thing at McKinley high. Well, other than the obvious exception.

The truth was that the only person more desirable than Rachel Berry, in the whole world it seemed, but most definitely in the school, was her dream-boat boyfriend. But more on him later.

The point was, she _had_ a boyfriend. A superhot, super-popular boyfriend. Who could keep up with her in every respect. Which really really sucked for guys like Finn.

Finn Hudson stared longingly as the object of his affection strode past him in the crowded hallway. She looked stunning, as always. Today she was wearing even less than usual though: A white tube-top, a tight, black mini-skirt and matching jacket, and the sexiest heels Finn had ever seen. Her shirt was tied off above her navel exposing the smooth, caramel-colored skin beneath. Her make-up was perfect, lips redder than blood, skin flawless, and eyes smokey as hell. On top of that, her dark, gorgeous locks were tangled into two braided pigtails that were doing scary things to Finn's brain.

As she glided past him, without ever meeting his gaze or even glancing in his direction, a delicious wave of lavender shampoo and pomegranate body spray washed over him, making him dizzy.

Finn's breath caught as he stared after her. Good god she was amazing. Finn really didn't understand why she thought she needed all that make-up though. She was plenty beautiful without all that help. He'd always had a thing for natural-looking girls and Rachel Berry rarely "dressed down" but there was just something about her...

Finn supposed her boyfriend liked his girl all "done-up" like that. Like some sort of painted doll or trophy wife. As if he needed another reason to hate Anderson's guts.

_Speak of the devil_. Blaine Anderson turned around the corner at that moment, his face lighting up with a dazzling smile when he saw his lady walking toward him, the two of them attracting every eye in the hall. Finn's face crumpled in pain and he forced himself to look away as their lips collided with one another, Blaine's hands gripping Rachel's perfect waist and her brightly polished finger tips lightly stroking the stubble on his tan, perfectly-formed jaw. They just looked so fucking _adorable _together. It made Finn sick.

* * *

Mercedes Jones leaned against the wall of lockers and stared, unashamedly, at the disgusting display going on down the hall. Why not? Everyone else was looking. And those two knew they were looking. They _wanted_ to be seen.

The AnderBerry kisses were not only very public and very intense but they were also very _long_. Like they wanted make sure everyone got a chance to see the two hottest, most popular people in school passionately sucking face in front in front of them. It was kind of gross, actuallly. But there was a logic behind it. They were both hot and desirable and either could have anyone they wanted and everyone knew that. Including each other. They were staking out their territory. This hot pice of ass is _mine_. Hands off!

That's how Mercedes saw it anyway. What other reason could they possibly have for doing _that _so often and for so long? Was kissing really that pleasurable? She felt a familiar pang of regret as she remembered, once again, that she had no idea.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" She mused longingly.

Her best friend, Kurt Hummel, peaked his head out from his locker beside her and followed her gaze. His nose wrinkled in distaste when he saw where she was staring.

"Oh honey," he said, "_that_ is not something to aspire to. If and when you do kiss someone, I hope it will be something special and intimate. Not some sort of side show or power play." His voice was dripping with disgust. Mercedes thought maybe she heard something else in there too, but she couldn't place it.

Blaine and Rachel finally detached their faces and started off down the hall together, hand in hand. The crowd before them parted like the freaking Red Sea. Those two were like gods here and everyone knew it.

Mercedes looked over at her friend. "I know," she said, "that's not kissing. That's pure exhibitionism. But really, though. _Have_ you ever kissed anyone?"

Kurt tore his eyes away from the power couple and looked at her, his eyes softening.

"No," he said quietly, "I haven't." For a moment his eyes darted back to Blaine and Rachel, an inexplicable emotion flickering across his face. Was that..._yearning_? "But I want to," he said quietly, before turning quickly back to his locker, cheeks blushing red.

Mercedes eyes widened as something clicked into place. "Oh. My. God."

Kurt buried his face in locker even though he was already holding all the books he needed. Mercedes turned to face him properly.

"You totally want it with _Anderson_!"_  
_

"I do not."

He wasn't convincing anybody.

"Yes, you do! 'Fess up white boy. You want it _bad__." _She poked him in the chest with her finger.

_"_And you don't?" Kurt turned on her, his voice even higher than normal, "Everyone's in love with those two."

"Of course he's gorgeous, " Mercedes replied, "he's sex on a stick and he sings like a dream but that doesn't mean I _want _him want him."

Kurt didn't answer. He slammed his locker shut.

"There's nothing wrong with having a crush, Kurt."

Mercedes didn't understand why Kurt looked so upset about this. Kurt leaned his forehead against the closed locker door, eyes shut.

"I know that, 'Cedes, I just...," he sighed, "I _really _like him. And..." He opened his eyes and looked at her helplessly, "And I know I shouldn't and I hate myself for it. He's so... and he's _straight_... and _taken_...and he's just..." He floundered for words.

Mercedes put a comforting hand on his arm. "It's okay, hun. We don't have to talk about it."

Kurt nodded gratefully.

Mercedes smiled sadly at her best friend. She knew what it was like to be in love with someone unattainable. She wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

* * *

Later that day, Kurt Hummel was sitting in glee club watching the man he man he dreamed about at night sing and dance with the girl he dreamed about at night. Of course the two dreams were very different. He often dreamed of doing violent and comical things to Rachel, while his dreams of Blaine were... well they were still violent sometimes but in a good way. In a really, really _great_ way that made him blush to even remember in public.

The truth was Kurt knew he was way too infatuated with Blaine for it to be considered healthy. And he freaking _hated_ himself for it. Blaine Anderson was a straight, stuck-up, self-absorbed, jock and Kurt _knew _that. He knew Blaine would never look at him in a million years unless it was over the counter at the Lima Bean. He knew Blaine was just like all the rest. He didn't _want_ to like him. And yet...

Blaine twirled Rachel around in particularly sexy move that caused Kurt's heat to skip a beat. He couldn't help wishing it was _him_ up there. Holding Blaine's hand, the man's strong voice mixing with his own, Blaine's hand on his hip...

Kurt shook the images from his head. _No_. _  
_

While Blaine himself had never actually shoved Kurt into a locker, or slushied him, or tossed him a dumpster, he was friends with plenty of people who had and never once had he done anything to stop it. Of course, neither had any of his other "friends" in glee.

Kurt sometimes felt totally alone in this school. Even though people called themselves his friends, no one really got what was going on with him. He couldn't really _talk _to anyone about anything real. He had Mercedes, of course, but there was only so much she could do for him or him for her. More than anything, he wanted someone who could understand him. Being the only out kid in McKinely, actually in all of Lima for that matter, was rough. And draining. And _lonely_. But what did the world want from him? He was a teenage boy. He had urges and crushes and yet he was forbidden to act on or even show them. It was so unfair sometimes Kurt just wanted to scream.

Like now, when the boy of his dreams was clutching that beautiful girl to his chest and grinning adorably like he was the happiest man in the world. Why couldn't Kurt have someone to hold him like that? Why couldn't he kiss his boyfriend in the hallway or hold his hand? Why couldn't he be happy too?

He knew why it couldn't happen with Blaine. That was painfully obvious. But he didn't know the answers to those other questions. Oddly enough though, it was the answer, and not the questions, that caused his aching heart to throb the most.

* * *

The prince and princess finished their duet and, after an obnoxious little bow, returned to their usual seats in the front row near the band. Rachel scooted her chair so close to Blaine's she was practically sitting on top of him, though he didn't seem to mind.

Near the end of practice, Mr. Shuester assigned them their homework for the week. This week was all about working together since Mr. Schue had been picking up on the not-so-subtle aura of "me-talk" that had been circling around the glee club lately. Most of it, Kurt thought, had been emanating from the left side of the room, but he wasn't entirely innocent either. In a room so full of star-power and super-divas, he practically had to scream to get noticed. And Kurt Hummel was not one to let anyone walk over him, least of all Rachel Snog-a-thon Berry. So, had he been fighting for solos? Of course he had. He wasn't going to apologize for that.

Mr. Schue, however, seemed to be taking issue with the fact that practically everyone in glee club had taken on a similar attitude. They were supposed to be a team. And if they were going to have any chance against the Warblers at Sectionals they needed to start acting like one.

"So," He concluded, "This week's assignment is..." he turned around and quickly scribbled the next word on the white board, "...duets."

There was a collective groan from the rest of the members as Rachel immediately perked up.

"Perfect," said Santana sourly, "Now we get to listen to even _more_ nausea-inducing warbling from the hobbit twins. Seriously, you two are better than ipecac. I haven't been able to keep my lunch down in weeks."

"Enough, Santana," said Schue, quickly cutting in as Rachel opened her mouth to respond. He turned to the class, "Hopefully, we'll be mixing it up a little this time," he glanced briefly in the direction of Blaine and Rachel before returning his attention to the group, "You will not be choosing you own duet partners for this assignment."

Collective gasps and groaning sprung up around the room. Mr. Schue raised a hand to calm their protests.

"Instead," he continued, "partners will be chosen by drawing names out of a hat. This hat." He picked up an overturned black fedora from the top of the piano and held it out. "Now, when I call your name, come up and pick a slip out of the hat. The name you draw will be your duet partner. And I don't want to hear any whining. This is a team-building exercise, guys."

There were scattered grumbles of assent as the glee members shifted uncomfortably in their seats. There was no way this could end well. The glee club had done a pretty amazing job so far of pulling together students from all levels of the caste system that was McKinley High School and getting them to work together but even glee had its limits. There were still lingering feelings of trepidation and separation even in their little band of misfit toys. Despite a communal love for song and dance and attention there still existed a distinct line between the jocks, Cheerios, & populars and the invisibles at the bottom of the social heap. Invisibles whose only breath of fresh, non-filtered air actually came from their participation in a club that did in fact lay claim to membership by those same populars.

Nobody was particularly eager to cross that line and upset the tenuous status quo that they'd managed to establish in the choir room. Peaceful co-existence was about all they were prepared to guarantee at the moment. But it looked like Mr. Schue was about to step up and rock the boat once again. The growing apprehension in the little room was almost palpable.

"Alright, come on up," said Schue a little too cheerily for Kurt's liking. One by one the club members reluctantly stepped up and stuck their hand into the hat of doom. The local bad-ass, Puck, was first, looking terrified of reaching into the fedora as though it might bite his hand off. He pulled out the piece of paper and his nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Mercedes," he grumbled. Mercedes shot him an equally disgusted look.

Artie rolled up next and pulled his slip, "Quinn," he read happily surprised. Quinn, the beautiful head-cheerleader, raised her eyebrows in amusement. Artie's girlfriend, Brittany cocked her head and frowned possessively.

Santana Lopez was next. She looked at her name and smiled wickedly, "Trouty-mouth." Her football player boyfriend, Sam smiled and rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Brittany scurried up to the hat next. Santana stayed put and helped Brittany read the name she pulled. She whispered in her best friend's ear and Brittany said aloud, "Rory." The Irish exchange student smiled brilliantly.

Kurt was called up next. He sighed. The only girls left unpaired were Tina and Rachel. While Tina was a lovely girl, her voice was comparatively weak and he hated the idea of being held back in that way. Yet he shuddered even more at the thought of picking Rachel. While her voice was definitely the strongest in the group and she would have no problem keeping up with him- in fact, now that Kurt actually thought about, their voices would probably sound amazing together- he dreaded the idea of spending so much time with the girl. And not just because she was loquacious and overbearing. But because he'd have to sing with her, rehearse with her, and talk to her knowing that, when they were done, _she_ would be the one who got to home to Blaine. Who got to kiss him and hug him and tell him about her day. The thought was enough to make him feel physically ill.

He slowly approached the front of the room, resigned to misery either way. He reached in and pulled out a slip. He unfolded the paper and read Mr. Schue's tidy scrawl.

He froze.

_No way._

He blinked rapidly and shook his head as if that would somehow make what he was seeing more real.

He looked again.

But the writing remained unchanged.

The name was still there.

Still just sitting there. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it was perfectly happy to resting in Kurt Hummel's shaking hands right now.

**_Blaine Anderson._**

Kurt couldn't breathe. He just stood there. Staring at the tiny piece of paper in front of him, terrified that if he looked away it might disappear.

"Kurt?" Mr. Schue's voice cut through his stupor. He started and looked up. Every eye in the room was on him.

"Blaine," he whispered. Still not quite able to believe it.

"Sorry?"

Kurt cleared his throat, "Blaine," he said a little louder.

Kurt couldn't bring himself to meet Blaine's eyes but whatever his reaction was quickly became immaterial as Rachel's outrage immediately occupied the silence.

"This is ridiculous, Mr. Schue! Blaine and I have proven ourselves to be the most superior match-up the New Directions has to offer. There is no need for either of us to sing with anyone else. This is preposterous. Blaine and I need to practice our performance for Sectionals, we can't waste time on songs we can't possibly use..." Pretty much everyone else in the room rolled their eyes as Rachel ranted on and on, her voice becoming increasingly shrill.

It took a while for Mr. Schue and Blaine to calm Rachel down, reminding her of the rules of this assignment and that it was just a song and dear god Rachel will you calm down, you're going to loose your voice if you keep screaming like that and then we'll have no chance at Sectionals, blah blah blah.

But Kurt wasn't listening. Somehow he'd found his way back to his seat in the back of the room next to Mercedes and he was still staring dumbly at the slip of paper in his hand.

**_Blaine Anderson._**

Could this really be happening? Was this some sort of cruel joke? Was he dreaming? There was just no way this could be real. Things like this didn't happen to Kurt Hummel. They just didn't.

Even after Schue and Blaine had managed to subdue Rachel's outburst, the remaining time was a blur to Kurt. He was pretty sure Tina and Mike were paired because there was some confusion when Tina read out "Other Asian," and he was vaguely aware of Rachel being unhappily paired with Finn, but he wasn't really paying attention. Kurt's mind was reeling.

_Blaine._

_I'm singing a duet with_ Blaine_. _

_Blaine is singing a duet with _me_. _

_Blaine and I are going to be in the same room. At the same time._

_Possibly _alone_. _

The very thought made him blush.

He was somewhat aware of Mercedes smirking at him and nudging him playfully with her elbow but he was too distracted to care.

Slowly, a small smile began to creep it's way onto Kurt's face as the reality of the situation settled in his mind. Blaine was going to know he existed. He was going to hear him sing and actually _listen_. He was going to spend a part of his day thinking about _Kurt_ instead of Rachel. And for a few precious moments, Kurt was going to get his wish. He was going to up there, in the front of the room, singing a duet with _Blaine_.

But suddenly another thought intruded on his fantasy and nearly smashed all of those good feelings to pieces. _This doesn't change anything,_ he scolded himself harshly, _He's still straight and he's still with Rachel_. _You're still a nobody to him_.

For the fist time since picking his name, Kurt dared a glance in Blaine's direction. He was sitting there, still cute as ever, with his arm draped comfortably over Rachel's shoulders. Looking not at all upset by the recent turn of events.

Kurt shifted in his seat. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. This wasn't going to be his fairy-tale ending. It was true, Blaine was still very straight and very taken but maybe that was okay. Maybe, at the very least, by the end of this Blaine wouldn't think he was such a loser anymore. Maybe he'd see him for the talented, caring, ambitious young man that he was. Maybe they could even be friends.

_Woa_, he cut himself off. Careful not to get too carried away.

Still, he still felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach when he glanced from the name in his hand to the man and then back again.

_I'm singing a duet with_ Blaine_._

* * *

**I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I don't have a beta or anything so please forgive any minor mistakes and let me know if I've made any whoppers. **

** I'm really bad at the whole "staying on task" thing so it'll probably be a while before the next update but I promise you it IS coming. I will NOT abandon this fic. There, I said it. Now I have to finish it. **

**Any and all reviews are greatly appreciated. They make my day and will probably make me work faster. ;)**

**Thanks for reading. **

**-Alaska**


	2. Chapter 2

Finn closed his locker door and nearly jumped out of his skin. Rachel seemed to have popped up out of nowhere. It took Finn several moments to re-assemble his thoughts back into a semi-rogocnizable formation and then another few for him to remember how to breathe. By the time he'd managed to zone-in to what Rachel was saying it was clear he'd already missed a large chunk of conversation.

"...have got to be _perfect_. Don't let me down, Finn Hudson. Are you even listening to me?" Suddenly, despite her short stature, Rachel looked very intimidating.

"What?" Finn sputtered, "Oh, yeah. Perfect. Got it." He hoped that was the right thing to say. He was still having a pretty hard time wrapping his head around the fact that Rachel Berry was actually speaking to him. _  
_

After they'd been assigned as duet partners yesterday, while Finn had been basically having a full-on panic attack, Rachel hadn't so much as glanced at him except in outrage before jumping back into Blaine's lap. He hadn't seen heads nor tails of her since until just now when she'd decided to pounce on him like some sort of tiny jaguar from hell. God, she had a pretty mouth though. She had a pretty everything.

"...just because I'm not paired with my preferred, and obviously superior, choice is no excuse for a performance that is anything less than spectacular."

_She's talking you idiot. Stop staring at her lips and listen, _Finn's upstairs' brain reprimanded him. Although, Rachel's little rant didn't seem all that dependent on whether Finn was actually listening or not.

"...You should view this as an opportunity, Finn. You're getting a chance to learn from the best. Surely, by being so close to my talent some of it is sure to rub off on you. And that can only be good for the group. Blaine and I can't carry you guys forever. It's exhausting and, frankly, the rest of you need to start pulling your weight..."

Finn knew he should probably be insulted but he also felt like Rachel had gotten a bit off-track.

"So," he cut in, "you want to pick a time to practice our duet or what?"

"Yes," Rachel said quickly, "today, three o'clock. The auditorium. I've already got the perfect song picked out. Don't be late."

And then, without waiting for an answer, she was gone. With a flourish and a flip of her deliciously-smelling hair, she had disappeared into the mob of students and out of Finn's view. Off for another snog-fest with her 'obviously superior choice', no doubt.

* * *

"_You think this is hard? I'm living with hepatitis A. _That's_ hard!_" Sue's shriek echoed through the bullhorn and assaulted Santana's ears along with the rest of the Cheerios'.

The usual chorus of disappointed groans reverberated from the group against the high gymnasium walls. Santana stood panting, exhausted, her olive skin flushed and sweaty with her hand on her hip. Sue actually had a point. They were kind of sucking lately. Santana didn't know what was up everyone else's asses but she did know she had been a little preoccupied lately. True, her parents had been fighting a lot and her grades weren't so great. But really it was just a matter of being distracted. Really distracted during practice. By a certain Cheerio.

"You babies make me want to swallow a live cobra. Again. Hit the showers."

Santana let out a relieved sigh as she headed toward the locker rooms with the rest of the girls. As usual, Brittany popped up beside her, her pale, freckled cheeks flushed with pink, her silky blond hair disheveled, and her breathing heavy. And still that ever-present, delighted-with-the-world smile lit up her face. She was positively glowing.

"My cat finally quit smoking," she said, and then paused, those adorable frown lines creasing her brow, "but I also think he's started reading my diary."

Santana couldn't help but chuckle a little. Brittany could always make her smile, no matter what. "You're probably right." She linked her pinkie with Britt's and the pair floated happily out of the gym together.

After practice, Santana met up with Sam back at her place. They worked on their duet for glee and made out a little bit, but Santana's heart wasn't in it. It hadn't been for a while, honestly. And it wasn't just Sam either. Santana had hooked-up with basically every guy in the school by this point. Well, all the popular guys anyway. And she had yet to wake up the next morning feeling anything but boredom and passive indifference.

Santana wasn't sure why this was suddenly a problem now. It had never bothered her before. Regardless, she kicked Sam out early and called up Britt instead. A little Lady Time with her BFF always helped her get a seductive spring back in her step.

* * *

Kurt was on cloud 9. Ever since yesterday it seemed he hadn't been able to stop smiling. It didn't matter that he still got tossed in the dumpster this morning or that his step-brother, Finn had accidentally spilled hot-sauce all over one of his favorite sweaters last night. The stuff that normally drove him crazy was just sliding off him like rain on one of his fabulous new coats. Because the only thing on his mind today was Blaine. And singing with Blaine. And Blaine.

Of course, part of him was terrified of just how the man himself would respond to the whole thing. Blaine hadn't said anything yesterday when they were assigned as partners, but maybe he was just being polite. Maybe he just didn't want to humiliate Kurt in front of everyone, because he was just that dapper, but secretly he was just as uncomfortable with the idea of singing with Kurt as any of the other straight douchebags would be.

On the other hand, though, he _hadn't_ said anything. In fact, he'd even stepped in to calm Rachel's protests. If he really didn't want to sing with Kurt he could have just let her ream Mr. Schue out until he changed his mind, right? Right?

Kurt smiled dreamily as he opened up his locker. He had spent most of yesterday running through the lists of the dozens of songs he had daydreamed about singing with his crush for years now, trying to find the perfect one. And also weeding out a few of the more embarrassing love ballads, just in case Blaine caught a glimpse of the list. That being said, he thought "Somebody That I Used to Know," might be a good one. Or maybe "Baby, It's Cold Outside." He knew it was out of season, but he just _knew_ they would be amazing with that song. It was practically like it was written with their exact voices in mind. Kurt had played it over and over again in his head and it sent happy tingles through his whole body every time.

And the thought of some of those lyrics. Of Blaine saying those things. _To him_. "_Beautiful, what's your hurry?... Your eyes are like starlight now...Gosh, your lips look delicious..." _The very thought made it a little harder to breathe.

Kurt was so caught up in his silly daydreams that he didn't see letterman's jacket barreling down the hall until it was too late. Kurt was shoved roughly from behind, slamming painfully, face-first into the neighboring locker. The impact knocked his breath from him as he lost his balance and tumbled unceremoniously to the ground. He glared viciously after Karofsky as the offending jock spared him a passing sneer before continuing down hallway.

Kurt sat there, fuming, his good mood finally quashed as his shoulder throbbed angrily. He didn't know why he was torturing himself like this, reminding himself once again that no one gave a damn about him, but he just couldn't find the energy or the will to get up just then. No one said anything or offered to help him up. No one ever did. Kurt Hummel was literally invisible. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the crowds of people walking by him not caring.

"Kurt?"

Kurt's eyes snapped open in surprise. He knew that voice. He tilted his head up to see none other than Blaine Anderson standing over him with an adorable look of concern on his impossibly handsome face. Kurt's mouth fell open in shock.

"Are you okay?" Blaine frowned, reaching a hand out to help him up.

The question jerked Kurt back into reality and he quickly, gracelessly scrambled to his feet, pressing back into the lockers and ignoring Blaine's hand. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he stammered, face flushing bright red, "I'm great. I'm fine. I'm...I'm fine. I was just...um..." He gaze was flying around wildly as he rambled, looking anywhere but at Blaine's gorgeous face. God, why did he have look so _cute_?

Kurt scrambled desperately for some explanation but he couldn't come up with a suitable reason for being on the floor. "I'm fine," he finished lamely.

Blaine raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Are you sure? You didn't look fine."

Kurt stared at him. Since when did he care? He opened his mouth to say something along those lines, but thought better of it at the last second, and just nodded. Nothing coherent was going to come out anyway.

Blaine still looked worried but he didn't press the issue. "Okay," he said reluctantly, "Well, I wanted to talk to you about our glee assignment."

_Oh no_, Kurt thought, bracing himself, _Here it comes. He doesn't want to sing with me. He's going to ask to be paired with somebody else. Anybody else but the gay loser with the high voice. Be strong, Kurt._

"I was thinking we could get together after school today and work on it. I already have a few song ideas in mind and I'm sure you do too."

Kurt blinked. What?

Once the implications of Blaine's words had settled in his brain, releasing all sort of happy endorphins that were chanting "_he wants to sing with me"_ over and over inside his head, Kurt was able to spare a few brain cells to focus on the actual content. A small blush rose in his cheeks. How did Blaine know that he'd already picked out the perfect songs for them?

"Kurt?"

Kurt realized he'd been staring at Blaine mutely for the better part of the last minute, probably looking like a total dunce. "Uhm," he stammered eloquently, shaking his head and forcing himself to focus, "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be... that'd be great." Kurt looked down at his shoes. Blaine's fantastic hazel eyes boring into his were turning his mind into rice pudding. Albeit delicious rice pudding. The best damn pudding there ever was.

"Where did you want to meet?"

"The choir room? Rachel's already booked the auditorium for her and Finn."

Kurt's heart sank at the mention of Rachel. He dared a glance upward and took notice of the thinning traffic in the hallway. Class was about to start and the few people who remained were shooting confused looks in their direction, ranging from curiosity to disgust.

"Right," Kurt said, dropping his eyes back to his feet and adjusting his shoulder bag self-conciously, "I'll, um, I'll see you there, then."

He waited, because Blaine was sort of in his way, but the other boy didn't move.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

There is was again. The concern. It was totally bizarre and totally throwing Kurt off.

Did he actually care? The idea seemed ludicrous but why else would Blaine keep asking? They had already fulfilled whatever social obligations the situation might have required. Blaine had asked, and Kurt had dutifully responded that he was fine. Twice. That should be that

He knew it would be a mistake, but he looked into Blaine's round amber eyes anyway, searching, confusion certainly coloring Kurt's features. But Kurt saw only beauty and genuine concern there and... something else he couldn't quite place. Oddly enough, it was that last unknown element that finally made Kurt decide to give the truth a whirl.

"I, um," Just then the bell rang. Kurt closed his eyes with a sigh. It was probably for the best. "I'll see you later, Blaine." Kurt thrilled a little at the realization that his words were actually true. He was also proud of himself for how well that came out. So he smiled just a little bit.

And Blaine smiled back at him. And hoy fucking shit Kurt was 90% sure he'd just melted into the floor.

He looked down to check.

Nope. Still good.

"See you later, Kurt."

Oh. That did it.

* * *

Blaine stepped back and allowed Kurt to brush past him, his skin tingling oddly at the sensation when their arms touched. He stood in the empty hallway and watched as the taller boy disappeared around the corner. He knew he should be getting to class but curiosity was rooting him in place. He couldn't shake the feeling that Kurt had been about to tell him something. Possibly something _important_.

That look on Kurt's face when he'd found him had been disturbing to say the least. Sitting on the floor like that, arms limp at his sides, eyes closed. The boy had looked so..._ lost_.Like he was slowly drowning in quicksand. Like he'd wanted to call for help but wouldn't. Because he knew no one would hear. It made Blaine's stomach churn just to think about. It had reminded him a little of that other time. Back in freshman year.

Blaine's phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting his train of thought. Checking, he saw it was a text from Rachel.

TO: BLAINE

FROM: RACHEL

_~Where are you? You're late. I am NOT covering for you again, Blaine Anderson!~_

Blaine rolled his eyes as he typed a reply,

TO: RACHEL

FROM: BLAINE

_~I'm on my way. Try not to combust before I get there, babe. And I never asked you to cover for me.~_

TO: BLAINE

FROM: RACHEL

_~Well, excuse me for wanting to keep my boyfriend out of detention~_

TO: RACHEL

FROM: BLAINE

_~You just want to keep me out so YOU can have more time with me ;)~_

TO: BLAINE

FROM: RACHEL

_~Don't flatter yourself~_

TO: RACHEL

FROM: BLAINE

_~You have a better reason?~_

There was a pause.

TO: BLAINE

FROM: RACHEL

_~Just get to class :p~_

Blaine smiled victoriously and put his phone away. He cast one final glance down the hallway where Kurt had disappeared. He did't know what was going on with the kid. He also wasn't sure if it was any of his business.

He shrugged. He didn't have time to worry about it right now. He had a angry teacher to answer to and an even angrier girlfriend.

* * *

**Sorry it's a little on the shorter side. Thanks for being so patient guys. Reviews= faster updates. Your thoughts mean the world to me.**

**-Alaska **


	3. Chapter 3

Of course this would happen! On today of all days! Okay, well, to be honest it happened a lot of days. But _really_? The universe couldn't cut him a break? Just this once?

Kurt stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror in horror More specifically at the fountain of blood gushing from his nose down to his chin. He just had to mouth off to Karofsky didn't he? He couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. Not even today.

He reached up and tentatively pressed at the swollen flesh aside his nose and winced at the bolt of pain that radiated across his face. How was he supposed to face Blaine like this? What was he supposed to do? Walk in there holding a bloodstained kleenex to his face? How very attractive and dignified. And perfect for practicing a duet. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

Kurt grabbed a handful of toilet paper, pressing the clump to his aching face. It was soaked through almost instantly. Kurt groaned. Just fucking _perfect_!_  
_

Still holding the wad to his face with one hand, he fumbled for his phone and awkwardly typed out a message to Blaine telling him he couldn't make it. His stomach twisted in displeasure as he hit send. His one chance to be alone with Blaine and he had to tell him no. Could this day get any worse?

Kurt sighed. What he needed now was to go home, get cleaned up, and take a nice long bubble bath. Maybe with a nice cup of herbal tea or some warm milk.

His phone buzzed as Blaine sent a reply, asking if they could meet up tomorrow instead. Kurt bit his lip. He had work tomorrow. But he desperately wanted to have as much time with Blaine as possible. As soon as possible. Maybe he could get Zoe to cover his first shift. She did owe him from labor day weekend.

He bet on her guilty conscience and sent Blaine an "ok." He wasn't sure why he was playing the fates like this. They hadn't been very kind to him lately. Or ever.

Kurt kept his head down as he headed through the empty halls of McKinley and out to the parking lot. The school was mostly cleared out but he didn't want to risk bumping into anyone, a teacher maybe, and having to explain his bloody condition. Plus, keeping your head down was what you were supposed to do with a bloody nose. He'd had enough of them to know that. God, his sweater was going to be ruined. It was sunshine-yellow too. No hope of ever getting the rusty stains out of that.

Kurt held a fresh clump of tissue to his downturned face and moved as quickly as possible across the lot, hoping to reach his car before the bleeding got intense enough to drip past the wad and onto his clothing.

He figured he was about halfway across the lot when,

_SLAM. _

He crashed headfirst into something, some_one_, and tumbled backward, landing hard on the rough, unforgiving asphalt. He felt pain shoot up through his shoulder-blades and his ass and let out a groan.

Stars swam before Kurt's eyes. He shook his head to shoo them away. He slowly propped himself up on his elbows, wincing as he put pressure on the bruise on his right arm where Karofsky had knocked him into the wall earlier. "Sorry," he mumbled to whomever he'd hit, "Sorry, sorry, I..._oh..._" Kurt looked up to see who it was he'd mindlessly bulldozed into and his eyed widened in horror as he found himself staring up at none other than _Blaine mother-fucking Anderson_!

_Shit._

_Shit. Shit. Shit!_

* * *

The choir room was empty when Blaine got there. Which was weird because he was already late. Rachel had insisted on an extra-long make-out session before the two of them split up for _'the whole afternoon.'_ Blaine rolled his eyes as he remembered her pouty expression. She was really really unhappy about this whole "singing with other people thing." To hear her talk about it, it was the equivalent of an open-relationship and completely unacceptable. She kept whining and giving him these death glares like the whole thing was his idea or something. Some sort of secret plot to vocally cheat on her.

Personally, though he'd never admit this to Rachel, Blaine was a little relieved by this assignment. He was actually looking forward to taking a break from his and Rachel's constant (although, frankly, show-stopping), lovey-dovey, power duets. Rachel was a fantastic singer and he loved spending time with her but, honestly, she could be really exhausting at times. And all of their duets had started sounding so similar to Blaine's ears, he couldn't even remember them all anymore. Blaine hoped singing with Kurt might be a nice change of pace. At least for a while.

When it became clear that Kurt was going to be late, Blaine sat down in one of the chairs and pulled out his calculus homework. He was about halfway through the first problem when his phone buzzed.

He pulled it out with a sigh, expecting yet another 'I miss you' text from Rachel, and was surprised when the caller-ID told him it was from Kurt. All the glee kids had exchanged their numbers, of course. But Blaine was fairly confident he'd never actually texted Kurt before.

TO: BLAINE

FROM: KURT

_~Can't rehearse today. Something came up. __Sorry._~

Blaine sighed. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. He'd actually been getting excited about the idea of exploring different kinds of songs and ways of singing today. And maybe he even could have gotten Kurt to talk to him about what was bothering him earlier. True, he didn't know the kid all that well, but his behavior still worried him a little.

Blaine pursed his lips as he typed a reply. At least now he might get a few hours of alone time before Finn and Rachel finished up their rehearsal. And alone time was a precious rarity when one was dating Rachel Berry.

TO: KURT

FROM: BLAINE

_~That's cool. Tomorrow?~_

The reply came a few seconds later.

TO: BLAINE

FROM: KURT

_~Ok. See you then.~_

Blaine packed up his stuff and headed out to the parking lot. He was almost to his car, mentally running through different renditions of the Pink songs he thought might make a good duet for him and Kurt, when he suddenly collided with something painfully solid. Or rather, something solid collided with _him_. With a flash of yellow and an "oof," Blane found himself thrown back into a nearby car.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," a pained voice came from the ground at his feet, "I..._oh..." _The voice petered out with a whimper.

"It's fine. I, uh..." Blaine shook himself off and looked down to see none other than Kurt Hummel, lying on his back, propped up on his elbows and staring up at him with petrified eyes. He frowned in confusion, "Kurt? Wha-" He started, then his eyes widened, "Kurt, you're bleeding."

Kurt's hand flew to his upper lip as if to hide the red liquid streaming from his nose. Blaine noticed a bloody clump of tissues laying off the side.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Blaine reached down to help Kurt to his feet. But the other boy just stared, mystified, at the out-stretched hand, like he couldn't figure out what in the world it was doing there in front of him.

Blaine's heart gave an unpleasant squeeze as he remembered how thrown Kurt had looked this morning when he'd asked him if he was alright. Like he genuinely could not believe anyone actually cared that much about his well-being.

"Come on," said Blaine quietly, "I promise I won't bite."

Kurt's gaze shot up to meet Blaine's. He hesitated for a moment longer, eyes darting between Blaine's face and his offered hand, and then, just for a second, off to the side, as if he were contemplating his chances of making a run for it. Finally, Kurt bit his lip and reached up to tentatively slip his own hand into Blaine's. Blaine gripped it tightly and pulled the taller boy to his feet.

He didn't let go right away. For some reason, probably because Kurt's eyes were still darting wildly around the parking lot, he worried that if he did, Kurt might take off. A tiny part of his brain noticed how soft Kurt's hand was. He mentally shook himself. What the hell? He let go.

"Are you alright?" Blaine repeated, "What happened?"

Kurt shrugged. He was looking away, Blaine guessed towards his car.

Blane hesitated. A drop of blood fell to the pavement at their feet.

"That looks pretty bad," he said finally.

"I've had worse." Kurt's voice was low and hurried as he anxiously shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Do you need help?"

Kurt finally looked at him, his eyes wide as saucers, "Do I...No! No, no, I- I'm fine." Kurt started backing away.

_I'm fine_. That was the same thing he'd said this morning. And it rang with the same false note as it did then. Blaine felt the familiar squeeze in his chest. Like something was very wrong. He'd had let it go before, but now this kid was bleeding. He was _not _fine. And Blaine wasn't going to give up so easily.

Kurt averted his gaze again. "I, um, I'm fine. Uh..thank-thank you. And, uh, s-sorry, you know, for...," Kurt trailed off as a glob of blood dripped into his mouth. He wiped at it with his hand and pulled it back, his nose wrinkling with disgust at the sight.

"Kurt, let me help you get that cleaned up."

"Th-there's no need. I'm fine"

"You are _not_ fine. You're bleeding."

"I've had bloody noses before. It'll stop on it's own." Kurt turned to walk away.

"You're going to get blood all over your clothes," Blaine warned. He was grasping at straws. But if he knew anything at all about Kurt, it was that that boy loved his outfits.

Kurt paused at his words, considering.

"You know how hard it is to get blood out, don't you?" Blaine was a little surprised at his own words. But he knew for a fact it was next to impossible to really get blood stains out. His own mother never shut up about it whenever he came home from boxing training with blood on his gym stuff.

Blaine's instincts turned out to be correct. After a moment's hesitation, Kurt turned and, with a small nod, allowed Blaine to lead him over to his car.

Blaine grinned in relief. Kurt caught his smile and, after a second, returned it shyly.

Blaine opened the passenger side door for Kurt, who blushed before gracefully sliding inside. Blaine circled around and got into the driver's side. He reached over and opened up the glove compartment and pulled out a first-aid kit and a small towel.

"Here," he said, handing the cloth to Kurt, "Hold that to your nose and lean forward." Kurt blushed again but did as he was told.

"Thank you." He said quietly.

"Don't worry about it."

They sat in silence for a little while. After a few minutes, Blaine's curiosity got the better of him.

"What happened," he asked softly, "I mean, if you don't mind my asking?"

Kurt didn't answer for a minute. "I...tripped," he said at last.

Blaine could hear the falseness in his voice. "Tripped?"

"Yeah."

Blaine nodded slowly, wondering what it was Kurt wasn't telling him. But he felt like it wasn't his place to press.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Kurt hesitated again. His free hand fluttered unconsciously to his right elbow, which did not go unnoticed by Blaine. "No, not really," he said, "I'm fine."

_I'm fine._

Blaine reached over and gently took the cloth from Kurt's face. The bleeding seemed to have stopped. Blaine smiled, satisfied, "It seems the flood waters have receded," he joked.

The other boy smiled faintly as Blaine put the towel into a trash bag.

Kurt's eyes dropped to the first-aid kit in Blaine's lap.

"You just have all this stuff in your car?"

Blaine grinned, rummaging through the kit and pulling out some gauze pads and antiseptic, "Always be prepared. Boy Scouts' motto."

Kurt cracked a tiny smile and looked down. Blaine reached his hand beneath Kurt's chin and tilted his face upward to get better access to his nose.

For that moment their eyes met and Blaine felt..._something_. It was weird. He'd never noticed Kurt's eyes before. In reality, he'd never really noticed _anyone's_ eyes before. Except Rachel's. But now he was wondering if maybe he should start. Clearly he'd been missing out.

Kurt had really incredible eyes, he decided. As Blaine watched, the color kept changing. First they were blue, then grey, then green, then back again. With flecks of bright yellow and what he swore was _red_ sparkling about the pupil. The hues swirled and mixed so vibrantly, so piercingly. It was like those eyes were seeing straight into his soul or something. And they were _beautiful_. Humblingly so. Like staring into the depths of the ocean.

Suddenly, Kurt shuddered and looked away, breaking the spell. Blaine swallowed as his gaze dropped back to the fresh stream of blood trickling down the boy's upper lip. Bright red against his pale skin. Blaine decided it was too quiet in the small space as he dabbed some antiseptic onto a gauze pad.

"Were you ever a Boy Scout, Kurt?" He asked casually, lightly dabbing the gauze against his face.

Kurt looked at him in surprise. There was that shock again. That utter disbelief that Blaine would care enough to ask. Kurt didn't answer right away. Blaine continued to work silently on his face.

Finally, Kurt glanced downward, keeping his head up though, as a light blush colored his cheeks. "When I was little," he admitted. Then added quietly, "They kicked me out."

Blaine raised his eyebrows, "What? Why?"

Kurt's blush deepened, he murmured something inaudible.

"What was that?"

"I set my tent on fire."

Blaine's hand froze on Kurt's cheek.

"You..." Blaine couldn't speak. It was taking all his concentration not to burst out laughing.

Kurt looked up, indignant, "It's not funny," he protested, "I was trying to kill the demon moth from hell!"

Oh, god. A sharp chortle escaped Blaine's lips. He covered his mouth but he couldn't completely hide his grin. It was so ridiculous and so adorable at the same time. He could just imagine tiny grade-school Kurt, all dressed up in slacks and a bow-tie stumbling along behind those loud sweaty boys, complaining about the food and getting his shoes dirty and correcting the other scouts' etiquette in the mess hall. And then completely freaking out upon finding a bug in his hair one night, and, well...

"It was awful! They had to send everybody home because the whole camp smelled like burnt hairspray. I was so traumatized I walked around with bed-head for a month!"

Everything he was saying just made Blaine laugh harder. Part of him felt a little bad about it, but he just couldn't help himself. It went on until Kurt finally broke down and started laughing too. It was a smooth, sunny sound. Like melted honey. Blaine wasn't sure if he'd ever heard Kurt laugh before now. It was really nice, he decided, and it was definitely something he'd like to hear more often.

The two of them sat there, giggling and chuckling and gasping together, and clutched at their sides until they couldn't breathe. "Oh my god, Kurt," Blaine managed when he could breathe again, "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, you look it," said Kurt, still smiling.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said quickly, biting his lip, "I just-"

"I'm kidding," Kurt said, eyes shining.

"Oh. Yeah, I knew that."

Kurt gave a happy sigh and leaned back against the seat.

"That must have really sucked though," Blaine wished he could stop smiling but it just didn't seem a possibility for the near future.

"It was okay," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes, "I never had much fun there, anyways. I always hated getting dirty."

Blaine chuckled again and Kurt blushed.

"You should have seen my dad's face though," he continued after a moment, "god, I've never seen him more horrified-"

Kurt broke off suddenly, his eyes growing wide. He leaned over and examined his reflection in the rearview mirror. "Ohh, crap," he breathed.

"What is it?" Blaine asked, full of concern.

Kurt reached up and touched his, red, swollen nose. The bleeding had stopped but, Blaine had to admit, he still looked pretty bruised up. "He's totally going to freak."

"Why? It's not like you hurt yourself on purpose or anything."

Kurt turned to look at him, a hint of panic in his eyes. Blaine began to regret having said anything.

"I-I know," Kurt managed, "He just- I- He doesn't like it when I come home... damaged."

Blaine lowered his voice, "Do you come home _damaged _a lot?"

Kurt looked flustered, "I-I don'-I- no, I ju-"

Blaine sighed. "Kurt. I know you didn't trip."

"Yes, I did!" Kurt was suddenly adamant, "I was walking and I tripped and hit my nose."

Blaine frowned, "Kurt, why are you lying?"

"Why do you_ care_?" Kurt immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, but it was too late. The words were out.

Kurt winced. Whether it was because of what he'd said or from the pain he'd likely caused himself by hitting his still-tender nose like that Blaine didn't know.

Kurt's face was bright red. "I-I'm-I'm sorry," he sputtered, "I'm sorry. I-"

"Kurt-"

The countertenor fumbled for the door handle, "I should go. I'm-I-"

"Kurt," Blaine said again, catching Kurt's arm, "stop. Wait."

Kurt broke off and stared at Blaine's hand where it was gripping his arm with wide eyes. Blaine let go.

"I should go," Kurt whispered.

"Kurt, look at me," Blaine said, touching the other boy's shoulder ever so lightly. Kurt flinched but met his eyes. He looked mortified.

"It's okay," said Blaine softy, "It's oh-kay."

"I-I just," Kurt closed his eyes.

Blaine watched him carefully. The boy's brow was furrowed as he seemed to struggle with some internal conflict. He looked really tired, Blaine realized. Beaten and tired.

After a moment, Kurt let out a long exhale and turned to look at him again.

"I'm just a little confused," he said quietly.

"About what?"

"Why... I mean... we're not really..." Kurt trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.

Blaine felt his stomach give a twist. He knew exactly what Kurt was talking about. Why did Blaine care what had happened to him when they'd never been all that friendly? Never even had a real conversation before.

Kurt took a breath and tried again, "How come you didn't just let me go home? Why did you want to help... fix me up?"

Blaine blinked. That was a good question. He almost answered with '_why wouldn't I?'_ but he knew that would be a douchebag thing to say. He knew why. It saddened him though, to see the poor kid so flustered by just the smallest act of kindness. Hadn't anyone ever tried to help him before?

"Kurt, we have a duet next week in glee," Blaine said with mock sobriety, "And it's going to be a lot harder for you to sing your part if you're passed out on the floor from blood loss. Plus, it'd be really messy. I'm simply providing a public service."

Blaine watched the other boy anxiously.

"Blood is a bitch to clean up," Kurt admitted finally, fighting back a smile.

Blaine shoulders sagged in relief. "Tell me about it," he said, returning the grin with a roll of his eyes.

He looked over at the taller boy, who was now staring at him with a kind of wonder.

"So, um," Blaine said after a moment, "Did you, you know, want to practice? Or did something else come up besides the blood?"

Kurt cocked his head in confusion for a second before the realization dawned on him. His face instantly brightened, "Oh," he said, shaking his head quickly, "No. No, just the blood. I, um, we can practice. If you want to." He was blushing again.

Blaine grinned. "That's great," he said. And he meant it too.

* * *

**Hey guys. I have to apologize for this chapter. I don't really know what happened but I just kind of got stuck. Like, every time I went to work on it I got a headache and felt all claustrophobic for some reason. I feel like it gets really repetitive.**

**I hope it wasn't too terrible to read and I promise the next chapter will be better.**

**The idea about why Kurt got kicked out of Scouts was my brother's. So kudos to him. ;) **

**Just a little side note: I recently joined Tumblr and I have no followers and it's very sad and pathetic but none of my friends are Klainers and that's basically what my Tumblr is. If you are feeling generous, I'm "catzgrl2" and it's just a bunch of fun, Klainey stuff. I may start posting drabbles or whatever on there too. And I'll follow you back ;)**

**Anyways thanks for reading and reviews are love! **

**-Alaska**


End file.
